


They Can't All Be Warden Material

by Sarah1281



Series: Angélique Amell [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Humor, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4723850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angélique Amell, shallow, self-centered, and rather oblivious though she is, still had no business being so shocked to find out that the ever-stuttering Cullen liked her, at least if you ask an exasperated Alistair and the ancient Wynne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Can't All Be Warden Material

**Author's Note:**

> Since Duncan recruited Jory of all people and takes the Warden for their skills and not their personality, sooner or later he's going to get someone that may not be quite what the Wardens were hoping for. Still, she is very good at killing things.

Angélique Amell, Circle Mage for all of six hours and Grey Warden for less than half a year, was not very happy and had no problem letting everyone around her know it. "This is such a drag," she complained, sweeping her long golden hair out of her bright violet eyes as she walked along the empty halls. She was very pretty and liked nothing more than to be reminded of it by the less-beautiful people of the world. "I wanted my homecoming to be all special and happy! I'm a Grey Warden now! I'm awesome!"

"And you've managed to escape this gilded cage," Morrigan said approvingly. She hadn't been a fan of their gorgeous leader at first, but after Angélique had gone out of her way to shower her with jewelry and mirrors, that opinion had quickly changed. '

"It is not a gilded cage," the least-pretty member of Angélique's current entourage, the ancient Wynne, snapped. "And where did you learnt control your magic anyway? Not at the Circle, certainly."

"Very good," Morrigan clapped her hands together in faux-cheer but declined to give her history.

"I agree with the anc…I mean, I agree with Wynne," Angélique hastily amended her statement before the ancient Wynne realized what she secretly referred to her as.

"What?" Morrigan gasped, unable to believe it and clearly wondering if she'd misjudged her initial misjudgment of Angélique. "But I thought you were glad to be out of here!"

"I am," Angélique agreed. "But the Circle isn't nearly pretty enough to be a gilded cage."

"…I don't quite think that's what they were arguing about," Alistair spoke up hesitantly. He had told her once that he had never been so grateful to have escaped the Templars before he met her which was just the sweetest thing!

"No?" Angélique cocked her head to the side, causing her magnificent tresses to ripple as she did so. "Well then I don't care. Stupid Uldred ruining my homecoming…Everyone is far more interested in him than in me and I'm too pretty to be ignored!"

"I know, I know," Alistair tried half-heartedly to soothe her. "Let's try not to do anything drastic this time, okay? Remember what happened in Orzammar?" Even though Harrowmont was clearly the only candidate with a soul and Bhelen hadn't even really bothered to deny the accusations of double-fratricide that were being lobbed his way, the Prince had spent twenty minutes waxing poetic on how beautiful Angélique was and so had quickly secured her loyalty. And if that weren't bad enough she handed the new King an army of golems because anyone with such discerning taste deserved the best. There were times he regretted his complete and utter lack of leadership ability…

"I don't know what you're-" Angélique began to deny virtuously before getting distracted by the sight of a Templar behind some sort of magical barrier. "Oh, hey, it's that Templar guy with the speech impediment! Hi, Templar guy with the speech impediment!"

The Templar in question brought his hands up to cover his ears. "How many times have I told you that my name is Cullen?" he asked wearily.

"It is?" Angélique looked adorably surprised. "Strange…that name strikes me as evil."

"Me too," the ancient Wynne concurred, "although I'm not sure why."

"I say we kill it," Morrigan suggested eagerly.

"We can't just kill him!" Alistair objected. Honestly, what was it with mages these days? Or was it just the ones he was forced to travel with?

"It's always the same," Cullen began rocking back and forth. "You'd think that in my shameful fantasy, at least, she would finally get my name right…but no."

Angélique brightened at this. "Shameful fantasy? That sounds promising. I want details!"

Cullen groaned. "What's the point? We've had this conversation so many times before…you've acted them out time and time again…often calling me Edward…"

Angélique snapped her fingers. "That was the name! Edward!"

"No, no it wasn't," Cullen insisted. "It's Cullen!"

"Alright, alright…" Angélique said sadly. "There's no need to bite my head off…"

"Sorry," Cullen apologized, immediately remorseful. "Wait? What am I doing? I may have a sinful desire for Angélique but this isn't she! It's a demon!" He closed his eyes tightly. "Be gone, foul temptress!"

"I-I'm not a foul temptress," Angélique told him, sounding on the verge of tears.

"Wait a minute," Alistair said, sounding confused. "You're inexplicably in love with Angélique, too? Honestly, I don't get why this keeps happening…"

"I'm very pretty," Angélique offered.

"No one's thatpretty," Alistair said grimly.

"What? I don't understand…that always worked before," Cullen sounded lost as he now-open eyes revealed the four were still standing there."

"You're not very bright, are you?" Morrigan asked, sounding amused.

"Leave him alone, Morrigan," the ancient Wynne commanded. "The poor boy is exhausted!"

"I don't get it," Angélique announced. "You like me? And did you get a speech coach while I was gone or something? I'm noticing a distinct lack of stuttering and it's actually kind of freaking me out. It's like you're a whole different person. Well, no, actually it's like you're the same person but without the stuttering. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's weird."

"I didn't get a speech coach," Cullen informed her. "I just am past the point of caring about trying to impress you. Not that it ever did much good…you can't even get my name right…" he murmured, suddenly glum.

"Um, since you seem to realize that I'm really here, maybe you should stop saying these things?" Angélique suggested tentatively. "It's kind of getting awkward."

"Don't you see that I don't care anymore?" Cullen cried out.

"Well, maybe not now," Angélique allowed. "You will, though, the minute this is over and you get a good night's sleep. Maybe the sleep deprivation and torture is where your newfound crush on me came from-"

The ancient Wynne coughed pointedly.

"Yes, anci-Wynne?" Angélique asked politely, managing to catch herself again.

The ancient Wynne merely shook her head. "Oh, don't mind me, child."

Angélique narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You know something that I don't, don't you?" she pouted.

"I am a great deal older than you, child, and I suspect there are many things I know and you do not," the ancient Wynne said delicately.

Angélique rolled her eyes. "That's an understatement. I actually meant about the Edward-"

"Cullen!" Cullen interjected.

"Whatever," Angélique sighed. "The situation with him," she nodded towards Cullen.

"This boy has been in love with you for some time," the ancient Wynne revealed.

Angélique drew back in surprise. "What do you mean? You never even met me until Ostagar; how would you know?"

"I never met you personally, no," the ancient Wynne confirmed. "Though Irving was always going on about your remarkable talent…and you're somewhat regrettable personality."

Angélique beamed at the praise and seemed not to hear the criticism. "Aw, I heart Irving, he's great."

"Why can't you just say love like a normal person?" Alistair demanded.

"Why do you even bother asking?" Morrigan inquired. "You know she'll just say she's too pretty to conform to other people's standards of language."

"It's true," Angélique confided.

"And he also said that you never listen properly," the ancient Wynne continued.

"I hear that," Alistair muttered.

"The entire Tower knew that Cullen often followed you around and stared at you," the ancient Wynne revealed. "Not to mention he could barely string two words together in your presence…"

Angélique shrugged. "I just thought he had a speech impediment and was kind of an idiot."

"I am not!" Cullen objected.

"Well, to be fair, you kind of acted like it," Angélique said matter-of-factly. "And did they really, anc-Wynne?"

The ancient Wynne nodded in amusement. "Oh, they certainly did. It was, perhaps, the most popular topic of conversation for months. You really never noticed it?"

Angélique shook her head innocently, creating another ripple. "Not even slightly."

"You have my sympathies, Templar," Morrigan said grudgingly. "Your love interest is barely aware that you exist, even now."

Cullen sighed heavily. "It is probably for the best. It is forbidden, anyway."

"This topic is making me feel oblivious and I don't like it," Angélique complained, heading for the stairs to the Harrowing Chamber. "I'm going to go save Irving now. Make sure to bring that Litany thing we got from Nail."

The ancient Wynne rubbed her temple exasperatedly. "That's Niall, Angélique."

She followed their unlikely leader, trailed closely by Morrigan and Alistair.

"Wait!" Cullen called after them. "I haven't even told you how they're all abominations!"

It was too late; they were gone.

"Oh well, they'll find out soon enough." Cullen paused. "I just hope Angélique actually notices…"


End file.
